


Fantasy Island

by rosa_himmelblau



Category: Wiseguy
Genre: WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 06:03:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8737630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_himmelblau/pseuds/rosa_himmelblau
Summary: Whatever happened to Susan?





	

She watched the waves crash furiously in the wake of the big ship, thinking of what it felt like to wade out into water like that, to feel it tug at you and try to pull you under; it had been like that when she'd taken Mel's body out to sea. Not that she'd been in water that deep, of course; you didn't wade in water like that, you drowned in it. There were, she knew, a lot of ways of drowning.  
  
Camille Hunter. It was a nice new name for her nice new life; before when her name changed it had only been her last name. But then, she'd had no say in those other changes—except for the last one. Camille was a pretty, uncommon name, and Hunter was a simple, common one, so they matched up well. Camille had died a tragic death, as she herself had once done. Hunter was a more illusive connection. She wasn't really a hunter; she was a—  
  
"Titanium butterfly." Someone had called her that; she could hear the voice that said it. "She flutters, but she's unbreakable."  
  
Maybe it was true.  
  
Now she was head of security on a luxury ship, the perfect job for a titanium butterfly. She fitted in with the surroundings, but she was strong; she could take care of herself and protect the passengers if she had to. And she had learned a lot about security from Vinnie.  
  
The ship didn't feel like home, though the motion of the waves still soothed the same. But then, the yacht hadn't felt like home either.  
  
Nothing had ever felt like home, though a few things could make her forget she didn't have one. Mel could make her forget anything; he lived in her brain and whispered her secrets, told her his own. With Mel she almost didn't need a home.  
  
Vinnie had seemed to promise her a home; his arms had been a wonderful refuge; his stories of his family like a dream come true. She now knew that promise had been a lie. But still she loved him, in spite of his lies; how could she be angry, with lies so sweet?  
  
She wondered where he was now, who he was lying to. Whoever it was, she envied them; Vinnie's lies were like honeyed-opium.  
  
And where was Roger? She missed Roger—he had been fun to torment. She'd used to go bra-less, wear loose, low-buttoned blouses to tempt him and watch him sweat. Roger would look but he was afraid to touch, afraid of Mel. And that was fine, because she didn't want Roger to touch her. What was he doing now? She'd never see either of them again; the idea of either Vinnie or Roger on a cruise ship was absurd, made her laugh.  
  
A passenger came up to her, called her by the wrong name. Well, what could you expect? They were here for their own good time, to be waited on and pampered. She smiled good-naturedly at the man in his slightly dingy summer whites and corrected him politely. "It's Camille."  
  
"Oh, sure, sorry, I forgot. Camille, it's time for your medication."

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the most self-indulgent story I've ever written, at least in _Wiseguy,_ because I knew when I was writing it nobody was going to get it. (Pat did, she thought it was hilarious, but she was there when I wrote it  & she knew why.)
> 
> Anyway, during my first great rush of love for _Wiseguy,_ the new _Love Boat_ came on, on one of the cable stations. And Joan Severance played the head of security, Camille Hunter. And we watched at least a couple of episodes (were there more than a couple of episodes?)  & it wasn't any better than the original, & probably not any worse. But it did have one thing that got Pat & me laughing 'til we cried. The very first show, the very first line Joan Severance had was, "Yeah, the FBI guy dumped me."
> 
> So, we both start giggling, throwing around ideas—"Susan, sweetie, Vinnie didn't dump you, he had you committed!" And from there it was a short step to a story nobody was ever going to get without at least a paragraph of explanation. So, here's the story & the explanation. Read it again.


End file.
